by Tracey Ward
I slide my hand into my pocket, feeling the cool touch of the stones. I’m tempted to show him just to shut him up. I want to pull one out, turn it into a dog, and have it bite him on the ass, but I hold off. I only have two left; getting to a dream with Alex to create more isn’t easy, and she’s in no condition to be pulling anything out of dreams at the moment. I left her lying on a tiny bed in a cramped room staring at the wall. She was trying to stay awake so she wouldn’t Slip without me, but I know she’ll be asleep when we get back. She’s too spent to stay awake.
The serums may have helped her Slip, made her feel good for a while, but they take their toll. Watching it, I’d say it’s like getting high. She can fly for a few minutes, but then she crashes hard. She needs to Slip naturally to feel better. At least I’m hoping that’s all she needs.
“Play crazy,” Campbell continues. “It’s your only shot at staying out of prison. Our job is full of late bloomer washouts. You couldn’t take the pressure and that’s too bad, but maybe you can still be a janitor in a nice quiet town somewhere in the Midwest. You’ll find Jesus, be an usher in the church, and marry some preacher’s daughter.”
I look at him sideways, scowling. “This sounds like a chick flick. Is this is a movie?”
“I’ve been watching a lot of the Hallmark channel,” he admits shamelessly.
“Dear God, why?”
“Don’t judge me, I’m not the moron here. It’s all that’s on in English. Either that or sports, and I couldn’t care less about that noise.”
“I’d rather stare at the walls than watch Hallmark.”
“And you will. In jail. So I’ll ask again—why’d you do it?”
Screw it. What can it hurt to tell him the truth? It’s the whole reason I brought him here anyway.
“Because I’m not normal,” I answer. “Alex isn’t normal.”
“Are you snowflakes? Is that what this is? You’re both special?”
“We have superpowers.”
Silence. No quips, no jabs, no nothing. I’ve stunned Campbell into silence.
I want to rush to the café to call Walters just to tell him. It’s almost worth risking everything to do it. Instead, I steal a sideways glance at him.
Campbell’s face is odd. It’s not confused or laughing. It’s also not blank, but it is unreadable. The closest I can figure is that he’s worried.
“That’s good,” he replies evenly. “That’s really good.”
“What is?”
“The fact that you’ve actually gone insane. It’s even better than faking it.”
“I’m not insane. I’m serious.”
“Oh, I know you are,” he agrees, his eyes going wide. “I can see that you’re serious. You believe it and that’s great. That’s… well, it’s kind of sad, but it’s good. Does she believe it too?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Okay.”
His calm, even tone is starting to annoy me.
“Don’t talk to me like I’m unstable,” I snap.
“Do you seriously feel like you’re not?”
“You’re going to eat those words.”
I open the door to the seedy motel we’re staying in. Campbell pauses at the entrance, giving the place a thorough inspection.
“Just as long as that’s all I’m asked to eat,” he grumbles, stepping cautiously inside.
I nod to our ‘host,’ a middle-aged Japanese man who speaks spotty English but understands U.S. dollars and gouging me just fine.
He stares back without reacting to my greeting.
Campbell and I climb four flights of spottily carpeted stairs to reach my floor. I lead him silently down the narrow hallway glowing yellow with old fluorescent lights that reflect off the painfully blue walls in a shine that hurts my eyes. I’m squinting slightly when I insert my old school metal room key into the lock and push the door open.
When I see Alex still lying there in the bed wrapped up in surprisingly stark white sheets, I breathe an audible sigh of relief. She’s asleep, breathing deeply and probably drooling a little on the pillow, but her face is peaceful and her body is in this country so she’s probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“What’s the deal with Sleeping Beauty?” Campbell asks at full volume, pissing me off. “She all tuckered out from a full day of ruining your life?”
“She didn’t ruin my life,” I tell him sternly. “And keep your voice down. She needs to sleep.”
“Oh yeah. Gold-digging is exhausting.”
“What gold is she digging for?”
“Dude, a PJ’s life insurance is a small mint.”
“And even if I die tonight she won’t get any of it since I’ve gone AWOL, so try again.”
“I’m not here to play guessing games. All I know is that you were living your life’s goal a month ago, then this chick shows up and suddenly you’re throwing it all away. What’s going on with you, Carver?”
I grab a plain file folder off one of the side tables by the bed and toss it at Campbell. “That’s my medical history. My full history. It explains everything—all the things that made me the Golden Boy. Read it.”
He holds it carefully between both his hands, looking like he’s unsure if he should get his fingerprints on it. Like he’s in a crime scene he’s scared of contaminating. “Is there a psych eval in this?”
“No, but there were plenty along the Pipeline. I’m not nuts. I’m actually crystal clear for the first time in forever, all thanks to her and that file.”
Campbell looks sad. I’ve never seen that emotion on him before, but this thing with me is obviously getting to him. Something about me washing out has him genuinely worked up in some way. He’s angry or annoyed or let down—I can’t exactly tell. All I know is I’ve never seen him like this and it has me worried.
For the first time since we called him I’m actually concerned he won’t help us.
He might even turn us in.
He sits in the corner in a hard wood chair beside a weak lamp and flips slowly, meticulously through the papers I’ve given him. I read it before I went to meet him. Mine and Alex’s files. It’s all there. Everything they did to me since I was a kid all the way up to Alex in the clinic and the connection they were hoping to invoke. The last bit, the part where she pulled me through a dream to be with her, that’s obviously missing. It’s something I’ll have to explain on my own, but I’m hoping everything else he reads will grease the wheels first. This is Campbell’s thing. This is his dream, his maroon beret, and I’m hoping like hell that he’ll be intrigued enough to at least humor me and help me figure out where we go from here. I need him to help me figure out how to find the man in charge.
Campbell takes his time as he reads my file. Occasionally he’ll flip back a couple pages, referencing something and comparing it to where he was, but he never asks me anything. Never comments. He’s intensely serious, and that’s the most unnerving part of it all.
“Do you have her file?” he asks suddenly, snapping mine shut.
“Yeah, it’s here.”
“Let me see it.”
I don’t feel right handing over her file to him, and for a brief second I wish she was awake to ask. “You’ll have to ask her for it. It’s not mine to give.”
He cracks a smile. “That is so noble.”
“It’s common decency.”
“Wow,” he breathes in amazement, sitting back to appraise me in the meager light. “You really have gone all white knight, haven’t you? Fine, if you won’t show me her file, show me what you got. Convince me this is all legit.”
I fight my annoyance, biting it back and feeling sick because of it. I knew this would happen. I knew he’d want proof, and I don’t blame him. I’d want it too, but I’m not in a great place to give it to him.
“Show him,” Alex says sleepily.
I turn to find her watching me with one drooping eye. The other is still closed. “Show him what? A magic trick or your info?”
“Info
. The rocks are too rare.”
“Is that code for something?” Campbell asks her, sitting forward.
“Yes.”
“What for?”
“My bike lock. Crack it and you’ll be the proud owner of a lavender Schwinn ten-speed.”
“Not really my style.”
“Then I guess you don’t need to worry about it, do you?”
I grin watching Campbell stare at her, his eyes tight with scrutiny. Finally he looks back to me.
“I’m not saying I like her,” he tells me, holding out his hand for the file, “but I’m also not saying I don’t.”
Campbell takes his time reading Alex’s info. In fairness, there’s more to hers than there was to mine. She was considered a success a long time after I was tossed in the trash to be forgotten. If it weren’t for her and the connection we somehow have, I’d still be off their radar. Does that mean I resent Alex for drawing me into this mess?
No. Not for one second. Not in the smallest possible way.
“Her power is cooler than yours,” Campbell tells me. He slides the closed folder across the small table toward me, letting me know he’s done with it. Mine as well. Psycho has probably memorized the entire contents of them both in that one read.
“You don’t need to tell me that,” I reply, sitting down across from him.
“She really can’t control it?”
“No.”
“That sucks.”
“That’s what she says.”
“And what do you say?”
“I say she can find control.”
“And he’s willing to lie to my face to try to get to it,” Alex chimes in from behind me.
I feel her accusing eyes on my back but I don’t deny it because it’s true. I did. I lied to her. I’m not proud of that but I think it was worth it to give a real shot at helping her take control of her ability. She would agree it was worth it too, if it’d worked. Instead her fear kept her captive, and now some of the trust between us is gone. We should have leapt forward but instead she’s taken two steps back.
“I felt like you only needed the right incentive,” I tell her over my shoulder.
I’m met with silence, something that surprises me. Alex isn’t the type to give up on a fight, especially one where she’s so clearly in the right. When I turn to her I find out why: her eyes are closed again. She’s probably asleep.
“Is this part of her power?” Campbell asks sarcastically. “She’s Sleepy from Snow White?”
“What’s with you and the Disney references?”
He waves me away. “I’ve been seeing a girl who’s freakishly into Disney crap.”
“You’ve been seeing a girl? As in more than once?”
“Don’t get excited. I haven’t had the Kool-Aid.”
“It wasn’t Kool-Aid.”
“Close enough, man. The girl isn’t important. What she can do with her tongue, howe—”
“So, you believe me?” I interrupt.
“Believe you about what?”
“The powers. Our abilities.”
“No.”
I’m not surprised but I feel a pinch in my gut. I think it’s disappointment. Whatever it is, it hurts.
“I don’t blame you,” I admit. “It took me a year to come around.”
“Even in ten years, I wouldn’t believe this story. I believe that you believe it, though. I think you’ve gotten yourself mixed up in something major that’s messing with your head. You’re obviously not thinking right, and that worries me.”
“Thanks for your concern, but I’m fine.”
“Then why’d you reach out to me? Why did you come to Japan?”
“She Slipped us here. I didn’t pick it, but once we were here I…” I take a breath, trying to sort myself out. I feel off-kilter, like a washing machine cycling more than it can handle. “I, um, I don’t know. I needed advice. I don’t know where to go from here.”
Campbell is looking at me funny. “You okay, man?”
“Yeah, I—” I pause, listening. Something has caught my attention, but when I focus on it I have no idea what it is. All I know is that I don’t like it. “Something’s wrong.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”
“No, not that. More than that. Something’s…” There it is. It’s the pinch in my gut that I mistook for disappointment. It’s a steel clamp clawing at my insides. It’s exploding through my body and I can feel it on the street outside, making me sick. “Something’s coming.”
I kick the end of the bed hard, jostling Alex roughly. It’s not a kind way to wake her up, but it is a fast way and speed is all I have on my side right now.
“Wake up!” I bark at her. “We’ve got company.”
I don’t wait to see if she gets up. I’m already at the window, gun in my outstretched arms pointed at the ground.
“What’s happening?” Alex asks, her voice surprisingly alert.
“Someone’s coming.”
“Who?”
My stomach rolls. My skin tingles. Vibrates.
“I’m not sure, but I’ve got a pretty good idea.”
She comes to stand by the window with me. The sun is rising over the buildings around us, casting a warm glow on the dark city streets. It’s chasing away the shadows and the monsters. The boogeymen. All of them but one.
“That’s him,” I tell her darkly. “The stocky guy across the street with the dark hair. He was in your apartment in Nebraska. He’s the one with the hands.”
“The hands that do what?”
“I don’t know and I don’t want to find out. We’re leaving.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth I hear the sirens. Police cars appear out of nowhere, blazing down the street. They’re headed straight for us.
I swear, letting my head fall against the cold glass of the window. “How? How did they find us this fast?”
How did this guy get from Nebraska to Tokyo almost as quickly as we did?
“The call to Campbell?” Alex suggests.
He comes to stand next to us by the window, peering out at the two cop cars parking at odd angles at the base of the building.
“What’s happening? This isn’t for you two,” he says, disbelieving.
I push past him, pulling Alex with me. “I’m not sticking around to find out. Alex, get the files. We’re gone.”
“Where are you going?” Campbell demands.
“Anywhere but here. They can’t get their hands on us. They’ll take us back to Evans.”
“Who the hell is Evans?”
Somewhere in the room a phone beings to ring.
It’s not a normal ring, not one you’d get from a landline. It’s a song.
One by Jay-Z about his many, many problems.
I immediately turn to Campbell. “Are you going to answer that?” I ask him coldly.
His eyes stay locked with mine as he pulls the phone from his back pocket, hits a button, and waits.
“Is that how?” Alex whispers beside me, her bag of files clutched in her hand.
“Yeah. They tracked the GPS on his phone to find us.”
“And who am I speaking to exactly?” Campbell asks whoever is on the other end of his phone call. He waits patiently, his face giving nothing away.
Alex and I should be out the door, but I wait. It matters to me what happens on this phone call, because I have a pretty good idea who Campbell is talking to. Part of me needs to know. I have to find out what kind of friend he really is. Not that it should matter, because once we part ways here we’ll never see each other again.
Still I wait. Still I have to know.
“Uh huh,” Campbell agrees vaguely. He glances out the window again. I imagine the police are converging on us. “That’s all you need from me?... Yeah, it does. It does seem simple… That’s very generous. And tempting… Yep. Sounds good.” He opens the window, the wood frame creaking and groaning in protest. Warm air and the wail of the sirens fill the room instantly. “Yeah
, yeah, yeah. Right. Well, I’ll tell you what. How ‘bout we do this instead?”
He throws the phone out the window. It drops to the street, where it disappears into the chaos below while Campbell turns to Alex and me, both of us frozen in disbelief.
“Okay,” he says casually. “I believe you.”
Chapter Six
Alex
“Who was it?” I ask, but I already know.
It was Dr. Evans. Who else would it be?
Campbell ignores my question, only having eyes for Nick. “You guys are into something serious, aren’t you?”
“I told you what’s happening. You said you didn’t believe me,” Nick reminds him.
“And I don’t. Not about the superhero bit, but I do believe you’re being chased by some British loon who’s offering a fifty thousand dollar reward to anyone who will help cage you two.”
“Fifty thousand dollars?!” I cry, shocked.
Campbell grins at me. “It’s a decent chunk of change. Don’t think I didn’t consider it.”
“What changed your mind?” Nick asks seriously.
Campbell meets his heavy gaze dead on. “We’re brothers, Carver. You don’t turn on family.”
We stand silently there for way too long as they stare at each other. I have no clue what’s happening between them, but they’re obviously having some sort of bro moment. It’s a crossroads in their relationship¸ some incredibly important event, but I don’t get it at all so I keep my mouth shut even as everything down to my feet sweats with worry about the cops outside.
“Sorry about your phone,” Nick says out of nowhere.
Campbell shrugs. “I was over it anyway.”
I get the impression we’re not just talking about the phone.
“You only have the one gun?” Campbell asks Nick.
“Yeah. Sorry I don’t have another.”
“It’s fine. I’ll get my hands on one.”
There are footsteps in the hallway. My heart leaps in my chest, pounding painfully in the back of my throat.
“What are we going to do?” I whisper nervously.
Nick takes my arm and guides me to the bathroom, where he has me lay down in the disturbing fuchsia bathtub inside.